Prologue:
Transparent droplets poured over the reddened line of the razor's track on wan skin. Amplifying its color, burgundy seeped from the wound and fused with the water. The razor's edge dug deep, spliting the throbbing flesh beneath. The warmth of the blood fought the icy spray of the shower on the masochist's wrists.
His blood mixed with water on the shower floor. Dripped a gruesome trail behind the fair male as he went about the bathroom.
A towel pressed against the mutilated flesh. Criss-crossed and jagged slits weeping the crimson representation of anguish.
Patterns emerged to crystalline blue eyes. Weary and gullible, the hallucinations seem all the more real as too much is lost.
As the Angel falls from heaven, the young man's body hits the ground. Prostrate in his puddle of vermilion sorrow.